


lying on the moon

by justicearcana



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hogwarts AU, M/M, bokuto adopts a bunch of owls, bokuto's got it bad and akaashi is endeared, just a buncha fluff tbh, rated t for potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4704050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justicearcana/pseuds/justicearcana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he wakes up in the hospital wing, Bokuto is met with the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen. Sitting up slowly in his cot, he blurts, “Did I die and go to heaven?”</p><p>Or: The HP!AU nobody asked for where Akaashi is a beautiful beater and Bokuto falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lying on the moon

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! this is my first ever haikyuu fic so i'm a bit nervous to be posting it へ[ : ⊚ ﹏ ⊚ : ]ง writing this was def a long and grueling experience, but hopefully i did my smol owl sons justice... !! anyway, this is a v self indulgent hp!au and there are probably a lot of inconsistencies with the canon world of hogwarts but u know what!! that's ok. let's just roll with it alright~?
> 
> the title is from [the moon song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Twg25xkACwo). shout out to [sasha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandghouls) for helping me come up with a name for this thing and to [coco](http://archiveofourown.org/users/youngji) and [kendall](http://archiveofourown.org/users/joonmyun) for being my beautiful betas!!!! this fic would be a disaster without them *blows one thousand kisses*

All Bokuto hears is noise. Lots of noise. Adrenaline rushes through his body as he flies across the pitch with the quaffle in hand. The wind roars along with the crowd, chants of _Go! Go! Gryffindor!_ melting into the background. He can vaguely hear the sound of Yachi’s voice shouting his name, her commentary growing increasingly shrill as he flies closer to the goal rings.

He feels good. This is it, he thinks. If he can just score these ten points, then they’ll be in the lead. He’s ready to wipe that smug grin off the Slytherin captain’s face. No more Mr. Grand King, or whatever!

With eyes narrowed, Bokuto zooms towards the goal post, taking aim. Two Slytherins flank him on either side. He knows the timing has to be perfect, so he waits until the last possible moment before lifting his arm and throwing hard.

It’s a flawless throw, he can tell—but before he has a chance to see it fly through the ring, Bokuto is knocked straight off his broom by a powerful bludger. The crowd gasps just as a loud _DING_ rings through the air, signaling the success of the throw. Bokuto’s unconscious body slumps onto the ground.

Yachi’s too busy shrieking “Is he okay?! Oh my god, is he dead?!” to give Gryffindor their ten points.

 

***

 

When he wakes up in the hospital wing, Bokuto is met with the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen. The green on his robes tells him that the boy is a Slytherin. Everything else about him—the sparkle of concern in his eye, the perfect curve of his jaw, the way his parted hair falls delicately against his forehead—tells him that he’s absolutely fucked.

Sitting up slowly in his cot, Bokuto blurts, “Did I die and go to heaven?”

The boy blinks and lets out a nervous laugh. “Ummmm…no,” he says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “You’re still alive. Thankfully.”

“Oh.” Bokuto notices that the hospital wing is empty, save for the two of them. Where is everyone? He doesn’t really remember what happened, but surely his teammates are worried about his condition. He looks around for a sign of any visitors: for flowers, gifts, get well soon cards…but there’s nothing. A small pout finds its way onto his face. Some friends he has.

“Look, uh,” the pretty boy speaks again, and Bokuto’s gaze snaps back up to meet his eyes. “I’m really sorry for knocking you out. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. I was just trying to stop you from scoring, that’s all,” he finishes.

Suddenly Bokuto remembers the quidditch match. “Oh,” he repeats again, this time with a little more understanding. “It’s fine! Accidents happen, you know?” He grins.

“Right…”

“So, what happened? Did we win? You have to admit that was one hell of a throw I made back there,” Bokuto continues. The Slytherin boy seems to be watching him closely, as if wondering how he’s so animated when he was just comatose for four hours. But Bokuto feels great—he just has a vague headache, that’s all—and he looks at the other expectantly.

“Uh, well,” the boy answers, scratching the back of his neck. “The game got stopped because you had to be transported here. But yeah, it was a great throw. I can see why they call you Gryffindor’s ace.”

Bokuto’s face lights up at the praise, and he lets out an excited “Thank you! I am pretty great, aren’t I?” before something in his brain clicks into place. He then realizes that he must be speaking to Akaashi Keiji, sixth year beater and only son to a famous pureblood family. He’s heard of him before, and they even have a few mutual friends, but they’ve never had a conversation. Bokuto never realized how good-looking he was until now.

“I’m Bokuto, by the way,” he blurts, all of the sudden infinitely more nervous than he was a moment ago. “Bokuto Koutarou.”

“Akaashi Keiji,” the boy says, confirming Bokuto’s earlier thoughts. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. If there’s anything I can do to make up for…well…knocking you out…”

“Hang out with me?” Bokuto answers without thinking. As soon as he realizes what he’s said, a light flush begins to creep up his neck. _Smooth, Koutarou._ Scrambling, he continues, “I mean! We could practice together or something? I should probably get better at dodging bludgers or I might end up like this again…”

Akaashi seems surprised and merely stares at Bokuto for a moment before letting out another stilted laugh. “Okay? Practicing with someone other than Lev and Oikawa sounds nice for once.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure.”

They blink at each other, unsure of what to say next, a degree of discomfort settling between them. Bokuto can’t imagine why this beautiful boy is so easily willing to spend his time with a stranger, but he’s not about to complain. After a few more seconds of tense silence, Bokuto gives Akaashi one of his biggest and brightest grins.

“Great! I can’t wait to show you what I’m really made of.”

Akaashi smiles back meekly, and Bokuto can feel himself falling already.

“Me neither.”

 

***

 

“You didn’t tell me Akaashi Keiji was hot.”

Kuroo snorts, not even bothering to look up from the comic book he’s currently reading instead of doing his charms homework. “I didn’t know I was supposed to,” he says.

“Come on,” Bokuto whines. He leans across the library table, chin in his hands as he stares at his best friend with pleading eyes. “You know it’s a bro’s duty to tell another bro when they meet someone who is totally that bro’s type. What kind of matchmaker are you?”

“Totally your type?” Another snort. “I didn’t know you were into boring pretty boys.”

Bokuto lets out a sound that resembles that of a wounded puppy and swats at the book in Kuroo’s hands. “He’s not boring! And pay attention to me, we’re having a conversation!”

A girl at the next table over shoots them both an annoyed glare, and Bokuto shrinks back into his seat. “I mean, please,” he whispers.

Kuroo laughs. “Alright, jeez,” he responds, closing his comic book. “So you like Akaashi? Didn’t he like, almost kill you?”

“Nah, I’m totally fine,” Bokuto waves off the comment. “But you’ve talked to him before, right? Tell me more about him! Please please pleaaaaaaaase—”

“Okay! Relax,” Kuroo chuckles. “Well. I’ve only spoken to him a few times, but he seems really, I don’t know, calm? He’s pretty chill from what I’ve seen. Except for when he’s on the quidditch pitch. Then he turns into some kind of creepy, concentrated beast. Or so I’ve heard.” He shrugs, thinking back to what some of his friends on the Slytherin team had told him. It seems weird, but he supposes there must be some level of intensity to the guy, otherwise he wouldn’t have completely taken out Gryffindor’s star chaser.

Bokuto inhales sharply, leaning back in his chair. “Fuck, that’s kind of hot,” he says, eyes wide. “Help, I’m in love.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“Duh, that’s why I asked you to tell me stuff.”

“Wow.” Kuroo smirks. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

“Just shut up and help me!”

The look on Bokuto’s face is so full of desperation that Kuroo almost laughs. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to do? I don’t really know him all that well, either,” he shrugs, slinging an arm over the back of his chair lazily. “I guess I could ask Kenma about it…they’re friends, I think….”

“Kenma?” Bokuto perks up. “That’s right, they’re in the same year. I’ll go ask him right now!”

“Um, wait, that might not be the best idea,” Kuroo starts to protest, but it’s too late. Bokuto is already leaping out of his chair and gathering up his forgotten textbooks with a bright smile on his face.

“Thanks, man!” he exclaims with a wave. “You’re the best!”

Kuroo sighs and slumps back in his chair.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles.

 

***

 

The first time they practice together, Bokuto is nearly shaking in his quidditch shoes, though not for reasons one might expect. He isn’t afraid of getting knocked out again; that has practically already left his mind by now. He’s just _nervous,_ which is something Kuroo had been sure to laugh at him about, because Bokuto is usually all charm and confidence. But not with Akaashi. Akaashi is pretty and cool enough that he has Bokuto sweating under his robes, his spiked hair becoming flattened from all the hands he’s run through it.

“You alright?” Akaashi asks, pulling on his gloves. Bokuto can’t tell if the slight smile on his face is one of worry or amusement. Whatever it is, it’s attractive as hell and Bokuto thinks he might die. “I won’t hit you this time, I promise.”

Bokuto gives Akaashi a sheepish smile, embarrassed that his anxiety is showing. “Right, of course not,” he says. He reaches for his water bottle and takes a swig to calm his nerves.

“I mean, unless you’re into that.”

Then he starts choking.

“W-what?”

Akaashi laughs and mounts his broom. “It’s a joke, Bokuto-san,” he says. “Now come on, I’ll hit the quaffle around for you for a bit.”

And with that, Akaashi is flying high up into the air, leaving a sputtering Bokuto on the ground by himself. This is going to be a long practice session.

 

***

 

The next few weeks are busy ones, filled with studying and homework and getting prepared for the big Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff game coming up. Bokuto only gets to “hang out” with Akaashi a few more times, because Oikawa is oddly possessive of his teammates, and keeps calling emergency team practices for no reason. Not to mention Akaashi is in several advanced track classes, and unlike Bokuto, he actually cares about his grades.

Bokuto is understanding, of course, but he can’t help but get pouty anyway. Practicing with his own team isn’t as fun as practicing with Akaashi. Noya is an amazing keeper and usually blocks most of his shots, which isn’t any fun for him, considering he’s a terribly sore loser. Most of the time when they play together, Bokuto ends up proclaiming that he’s never going to enter the quidditch pitch again, since he can’t seem to score any points. It’s counterproductive, which is why Gryffindor almost always holds joint practices with other teams.

Their most common practice partner is the Ravenclaw team, because Kuroo knows how to deal with Bokuto’s moods, and it’s easy to coordinate times when they’re always together anyway. Saturdays are the most convenient, and so the two teams find themselves on the pitch in the early hours of the morning, the crisp spring air nipping at their cheeks.

“Hey Kenma, have you seen Akaashi today?” Bokuto asks the sixth year as they’re warming up. He’s unusually chipper for 7:00 A.M, but his enthusiasm is nothing new. Bokuto has always functioned best between the hours of early dusk and late dawn. “How’s he doing? Can you say hi to him for me?”

Kenma sighs, not bothering to look up as he mounts his broom. “It’s only morning,” he says. “Of course I haven’t seen him. He’s probably still asleep.”

“Oh, right!” Bokuto responds, laughing. “Duh. Well if you do see him later, tell him I say hello!”

“Whatever.”

With that, Kenma flies off and over towards the rest of his teammates, who are sleepily tossing the quaffle back and forth at the other end of the pitch. Kuroo, decked out in his captain’s uniform, approaches with a yawn.

“Yo, Bo, I told you to stop bothering him about Akaashi,” he slurs. “He really doesn’t see him that often, you know? You’d be better off just talking to him yourself.”

Bokuto pouts, blinking over at his best friend. “But! He’s my only way in! I don’t know any of Akaashi’s other friends.”

Kuroo’s brow furrows. “What about Ennoshita?”

“Ennoshita?” Surprised, Bokuto looks over to where the rest of the Ravenclaws are lazily playing catch. A grin breaks onto his face, and he quickly hops onto his broom. “Hey! Ennoshita!”

Before Kuroo can stop him, Bokuto is zooming towards the group of players, shouting the chaser’s name over and over again with excitement. Kuroo winces when he sees the look of shock and confusion on Ennoshita’s face, then lets out a sigh.

“Ah, fuck.”

 

***

 

Bokuto feels a light nip at his finger and recoils, pouting when he sees a small drop of blood beading onto his skin. He sucks at it before wiping the wound on his robes. He’s used to being bitten by owls by now, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Now, Mr. Crumb,” he says, his voice slow and even. “You know we don’t bite!”

Mr. Crumb, a large and tousled horned owl, stares back at Bokuto. Another, smaller owl hops up to join him on the windowsill. Bokuto reaches out to give the little guy a gentle pat on the head, ruffling the feathers behind his ears.

“Brownie, tell your brother to behave,” he says, still pouting. “Really, I give you food and love and this is how you repay me!”

The owls flap their wings impatiently and Bokuto sighs before pulling out a handful treats from his bag. “Just a few more,” he says. “If you get too fat then you won’t be able to deliver messages anymore.”

He begins to distribute treats to the flock of owls around him, cooing and petting and telling them each about his day as he does so. “And then,” he tells a tiny saw-whet, “he said it was just a joke. But I didn’t get it. Do you?”

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Bokuto starts, standing abruptly and turning to face the voice that has suddenly come from the owlery stairs. “Akaashi!” he blurts, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” His cheeks begin to flush red as he wonders just how much the other boy has heard. Does he know he was talking about him? And to a bunch of _owls,_ no less?

Akaashi simply lifts his hand in response, revealing a parcel. Oh. Right. People usually came up here to send mail, not to chat with animals.

“Oh,” Bokuto says, stepping to the side as Akaashi approaches the window. “Sorry, I was just. Talking to the owls.”

Stupid. He’s so stupid, and Akaashi probably thinks he’s a big lame dork, and—

“That’s sweet,” he responds. “Do you come up here often?”

Bokuto blinks. Sweet? Did Akaashi Keiji just call him sweet? “Oh. It is? I mean…yeah. I guess I do.” He can feel his insides turning to jelly, so he tries to casually lean back against the wall to support himself. This doesn’t work out as well as he planned, though, and he nearly slips and falls when he loses his footing. Brownie hops over and eats the dropped owl treats off of the ground, unconcerned.

“Cool.” Akaashi has moved to tie his letter onto the leg of a gorgeous black owl in the corner of the tower. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Bokuto’s slip up, thank goodness. Bokuto watches him carefully, mesmerized by how pretty both he and the creature are. “Which one’s yours?”

It takes him a moment to understand that Akaashi is asking him about the owls, his head tilted towards the swarm of wild birds at Bokuto’s feet and shoulders.

“Oh, uh,” he blushes. “None of them, really. I didn’t have enough money to buy an owl my first year, so I just sort of adopted some of the ones without owners that hang around up here. This guy is Mr. Crumb,” he says, nudging at the largest with his foot. “He’s kind of mean but I think it’s just because he’s old and lonely.”

Akaashi finishes sending off his bird with instructions for his letter, then turns to the Gryffindor with eyebrows raised. “Mr. Crumb?”

Another blush. “Oh, well, he’s kind of like, disheveled and dirty looking? Like a crumb or…something…” Honestly, Bokuto doesn’t know what his eleven year old self was thinking when he named this owl, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now it’s just downright embarrassing. “This little guy is Brownie, because he’s, well, brown. And this is Jellybean. I think Snickerdoodle is hiding around here, somewhere…”

He glances around, searching for the rest of his owl friends. “Some of them get nervous around new people, sorry,” Bokuto says sheepishly.

When he looks back up at Akaashi, he notices for the first time that the other boy is smiling. Or at least he thinks it’s a smile: his lips are upturned just slightly, and there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes that wasn’t there before. His heart thumps.

“That’s okay,” Akaashi says with a shrug. “They seem to really like you.”

“Ah, well,” Bokuto responds, running another hand through his spiked hair. “They probably only like me because I give them food.”

“Still. That’s as good a reason as any, isn’t it?”

“…yeah, I guess so.”

The air turns awkward again, and Bokuto finds himself wishing he had the courage to ask Akaashi something like _‘So what do YOU like about me?’_ but of course he doesn’t. He’s not even sure if Akaashi likes him at all or if he’s simply tolerant. Are his smiles genuine, or are they closer to the type that tired adults give to pestering children? It’s hard to tell, really, when Bokuto can go from the most confident person in the world to the least in one minute flat. He wants to believe that he and Akaashi are friends, but he isn’t sure. After all, this is the first conversation they’ve had that doesn’t involve quidditch.

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s gentle voice startles him out of his reverie, and for a moment Bokuto’s mind jumps in all the wrong directions—he begins to imagine Akaashi confessing his undying love for him, Akaashi kissing him, Akaashi’s long fingers curling into the fabric of his robes as he moans his name…

“Yes?” He gulps.

“You’re bleeding.”

Akaashi gestures downwards at Bokuto’s finger, which is indeed bleeding, specks of red bubbling up from where Mr. Crumb had bitten him earlier. Bokuto feels the heat beginning to crawl up his neck as he realizes where his thoughts had just begun to wander, and he hastily tries to compose himself.

“O-oh,” he says, staring dumbly down at his finger. “Right. It’s fine… I get bitten all the time.”

There’s a frown on the other boys face as he steps closer. Bokuto tries his very hardest to _stay cool, Koutarou, don’t do anything stupid_. “It’ll get infected if you don’t wash it out and bandage it properly,” Akaashi says, lightly grabbing his hand to inspect the injury. The physical contact makes him tense up— _what if he’s grossed out by how sweaty my hands are_ —and Akaashi lets go just as quickly as he had held on. Whoops.

“You should go to the hospital wing and get it taken care of,” Akaashi continues, stepping back awkwardly. Bokuto wonders if his nervousness had ruined that moment (if it could even be called that) or if it was doomed from the start. 

He nods slowly. “Right, of course,” he says. Then, before he can stop himself, “Are you worried about me, Akaashi?”

He’s not sure what he’s expecting. A denial, an embarrassed attempt at brushing the question off, a heartfelt ' _Of course I am, Bokuto-san…'_ any of these are possible reactions in his mind, but that’s not what he gets. Instead, Akaashi simply shrugs, nonchalant.

“If you hurt your finger, then you won’t be able to play quidditch properly.”

Oh. Well, there’s that, too.

“Come on,” Akaashi continues, chuckling lightly at the dejected look on Bokuto’s face. He nudges at the older boy with his elbow, earning him some piercing gazes from his several owl companions. “I’ll walk you there.”

“Okay,” Bokuto manages to croak, and he has to restrain himself from grabbing Akaashi’s hand as they walk down to the hospital wing together.

He spends the rest of his evening lying in his bunk, wondering what it would feel like to have Akaashi’s fingers laced with his, cursing the moment he ever let himself fall so deep so fast.

 

***

 

The worst thing about being a seventh year is undoubtedly the N.E.W.Ts. Professors know it; students know it; everyone knows it. Bokuto knows it. Bokuto knows it _really well,_ because if he wants to achieve his lifelong dream of being the most badass auror in the world, then he’ll have to get top scores. This is something he had conveniently forgotten until the tests grew closer, and now, in early April, he’s beginning to panic.

“Just a few more months until our entire futures are decided for us, you guys,” he says, shaking his friends by the arm in distress. “A few months! I shouldn’t have slacked so much in class. I know nothing!”

Kuroo brushes Bokuto’s grip off of both himself and Kenma, who is absorbed in playing games on some muggle contraption. “Relax,” he responds, rolling his eyes. “A few months is plenty of time to prepare.”

“No it’s not!” Bokuto’s voice has reached a rather high pitch and he’s pacing around the library, pulling at his hair in anxiety. “I’m going to fail! My life is over.”

“You’re a smart guy, Bo,” Kuroo continues. “Remember the O.W.Ls? You freaked out about those, too, and you did just fine. You don’t have to worry.”

“Why don’t you just study, then?” Kenma adds. He doesn’t bother to look up from his game. Bokuto can hear the faint victory music playing as the small blonde defeats an enemy, his face unchanged.

Bokuto’s face, however, falls into a grimace at the suggestion. “Study?” he asks. He knows it’s the logical solution, and he _is_ planning on cramming as much info into his head as he possibly can in the next eight weeks or so, but still. It sounds _gross._ He’d much rather spend that time playing quidditch, or sleeping, or…doing absolutely anything else. “I guess I have no other choice…”

“Hey, hey!” Kuroo suddenly sits up in his chair. “You should ask your pretty lover boy to help you out!”

Confusion flits across Bokuto’s face. “Pretty lover b—oh, you mean Akaashi?” Kuroo nods enthusiastically. “But he’s a sixth year…?” There are many other things to object to, like the fact that Akaashi isn’t his lover, but Bokuto decides that’s not worth mentioning. Saying it out loud will only make him sad, after all.

“So what?” Kuroo responds with a shrug. “He’s really smart; I bet he’d help you study if you asked. And hey, maybe afterwards you could offer to repay him with some _studying_ of your own, if you know what I mean.”

Bokuto blushes. “I have no idea what you mean,” he lies. “Wouldn’t it be kind of…I don’t know, weird? If I asked him to help me study? Which classes does he even take?”

“Do you even know anything about him?” Kuroo sighs. “The dude’s like, some kind of potions genius or something. Isn’t that right, Kenma?”

Kenma mumbles in affirmative. “He was in my potions class last semester,” he shrugs. “Even the professor couldn’t keep up with him.”

To say he’s surprised would be an understatement. Bokuto has always known that Akaashi is smart, that and his pureblood status are two of the only things he even knew before they officially met, but he never expected _potions_ to be his forte. Why this is surprising, Bokuto doesn’t know, it just is. Maybe because potions is Bokuto’s absolute worst subject, and he can’t imagine anyone, not even Akaashi, being good at it.

But maybe it’s fate, this potions thing. Because if Bokuto is terrible at it, and Akaashi is the opposite of terrible, then wouldn’t it make sense for him to ask for help? If Akaashi is like, Hogwarts’ number one potions student, then it’s totally not weird for Bokuto to ask him to study together. Right?

“Wow,” he says slowly. “That’s…wow.”

“How eloquent,” Kuroo teases. He sees the blank look on his best friend’s face and continues, “Eloquent means—”

Bokuto punches him in the arm. “I know what it means!” he whines. Kuroo leans over to muss at his spiked hair in retaliation, and Bokuto thrusts his arms outward, pushing and resisting and complaining. Kenma watches on as the two boys roughhouse, wondering if he should even try to get them to stop. Luckily, Kuroo eventually remembers that he has to get to class, and surrenders.

“Ask him out!” he demands as he begins to pack up his things. “Or I’ll do it for you, you big wuss.”

“Alright, alright,” Bokuto sighs. Kuroo seems satisfied with this answer and takes off, leaving Bokuto and Kenma alone at the table. Kenma glances up from his game, his expression unreadable. Bokuto stares back in confusion for a good five seconds, wondering if he should say something or not.

“Aren’t you in that class, too?” Kenma finally speaks, deadpan. “You’ll be late.”

Bokuto blinks.

“…Shit.”

 

***

 

Asking Akaashi to help him study is less of a daunting task than expected. They run into each other in the halls one day, and Bokuto _casually_ mentions how he’s been spending all his time grueling over potions, and the rest is history. A few days later and they’re sitting in the library, shoulders brushing together as Akaashi looks over Bokuto’s notes.

He tries really hard to focus, but there’s no telling how much of what Akaashi is saying actually sticks in his brain. He’s too fixated on the way his body heats up every time they get close, or the way Akaashi swipes at his bangs whenever his dark hair falls in front of his eyes. It’s very difficult not to stare at the soft plush of his lips as he talks, explaining some complicated potion formula that Bokuto will never understand. His hands clench into fists against his thighs as he steadies his breathing in and out, in and out.

After a few hours of “studying,” they head out to the quidditch pitch. There aren’t any teams practicing today and it’s been a while since they’ve been able to play together, so Bokuto jumps at the opportunity. It feels great to be outside, flying and throwing and catching. As nice as being close to Akaashi is, he’s glad for the breath of fresh air. On his broom, all his nerves are forgotten.

“You’re in a good mood,” Akaashi calls out as Bokuto zooms past him with the quaffle, laughing and smiling.

“What?” It’s hard to hear over the wind. Bokuto flies in a circle before stopping to hover near Akaashi curiously.

“I said, you’re in a good mood,” he repeats. “A huge improvement over all the sulking you were doing in the library.”

Bokuto’s smile falls into a pout. “I wasn’t sulking!” he whines, although he knows that he’s only helping to prove Akaashi’s point. Truthfully, failing at potions wasn’t his main concern while studying. There was more on his mind than that. “I was just…distracted,” he finishes sheepishly.

Akaashi blinks. “Well,” he starts before pausing to think. “Let’s hope you don’t get distracted during your tests. Or during the big game, for that matter.”

“Akaashi Keiji! Who do you think I am?” Bokuto gasps. “I am always one hundred percent _in the zone_ during matches. That won’t be a problem.” He doesn’t bother to mention the tests, because he can’t be so sure about the level of concentration he’ll have when they come along. Quidditch, though—that’s something he _knows_ he can focus on.

“If you say so,” Akaashi responds with a shrug. “I’d hate to see you take another bludger to the gut, after all.”

Bokuto’s face reddens at this comment. He had almost forgotten about that incident, even though it was how he met Akaashi in the first place. Though to be fair, those circumstances weren’t due to distraction. He got hit because Akaashi was a damn good beater, that’s all.

“That was…hold on. You’re going to come watch the game?”

Bokuto is so hopeful that he almost misses Akaashi’s light peel of laughter. “Of course I am,” he says, sending Bokuto a warm smile. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

It’s such a simple sentiment, yet Bokuto’s mind reels into overdrive. Akaashi is going to be there, watching him play, cheering him on— _him,_ not the Gryffindor team, but Bokuto specifically. Suddenly he feels his will to win getting even stronger than it was before. He didn’t think it was possible in the first place, but the prospect of Akaashi congratulating him after a big win fuels him into a state of hyper motivation. He starts squeezing the quaffle in his hands tightly in anticipation. 

“I won’t let you down!” he responds, and Akaashi laughs again. Bokuto doesn’t stop smiling all day.

 

***

 

In what feels like the blink of an eye, the quidditch match approaches. Bokuto has never had a reason to be nervous before a game (his team is the best, after all), but today he feels like he might pass out. He can’t stop thinking about Akaashi’s words— _I’ll be rooting for you_ —and his own response. Why did he have to promise something like that? What if they lose?! Bokuto is now positive that they are going to be crushed and he is going to let Akaashi down and Akaashi is going to hate him forever. He’s completely doomed.

It doesn’t matter that Bokuto has trained all year for this. It doesn’t matter how much improvement he’s seen since his practices with Akaashi, or how his soft smiles and _‘Nice throw, Bokuto-san!’_ s have boosted his morale considerably. All that morale amounts to nothing the second he sees Akaashi in the stands, waving and pulling a scarf up to his cheeks to block the wind. He looks so goddamn _beautiful_ and Bokuto is so terrified of disappointing him. So terrified, in fact, that he nearly misses the cue to huddle up and get ready to start the match.

One of his beaters, Tanaka, immediately notices his spacey mood and claps him on the back. “Look alive, Captain! We’re going to kick their scrawny badger asses!”

Bokuto offers him a meek smile before mounting his broom.

“I sure hope so,” he mutters.

 

***

 

Turns out he was worried for nothing.

Gryffindor ends up shutting Hufflepuff out completely, with a final score of 200 to 40. Despite being in somewhat of a slump, Bokuto scores three goals along with Konoha’s two, earning their team a good chunk of points before Komi catches the snitch. Yachi nearly bursts into tears as she announces her team’s defeat, but the Gryffindor fans in the stands are cheering wildly. It’s by far the best game they’ve played all year.

Bokuto feels like he’s floating on air as he enters the locker room to wash up. He knows that the team is planning a celebration in the Room of Requirement, but he just wants to wash his face and maybe fix his hair a little bit before facing the others (namely: before facing Akaashi). As he’s splashing cold water onto his cheeks, he hears two voices drifting from the changing area. He listens closely: Hufflepuffs.

“If I had just caught the snitch before Komi-san, then we could have…we would have…” a timid voice starts.

“Quiet, Yamaguchi! You tried your best. I’m the one who let all those goals go through when I should have been blocking them,” the other says. Bokuto recognizes the second voice as Hufflepuff’s captain, Sawamura. He’s a buddy of Kuroo’s—a good guy, and a great keeper. Bokuto frowns and dries his face off with a towel.

“But Dai—”

“Hey,” Bokuto interrupts, walking around the corner. The two boys stare at him, apprehensive, and he lifts his hands as if to surrender. “You guys both were awesome today!” He grins, sincere. “I know you probably don’t want to hear it from me, but one loss isn’t the end of the world, you know? As long as you played your hardest.” He gives them a half-hearted shrug, hoping that they don’t take his words the wrong way. Bokuto knows what it’s like to feel completely miserable after losing, and it isn’t fun. These guys seem like cool people. He only hopes they don’t beat themselves up about the match too much.

“Er…thanks,” Sawamura says with a curt nod. The seeker, Yamaguchi, stands still behind him.

“No problem!” Bokuto flashes them both another smile before moving past them to grab his gear. “I’ll see you around. Tell the rest of the team they played a good game!”

He doesn’t wait for Sawamura to respond, instead dashing out of the locker room and across the grounds to the seventh floor. When he gets there, Bokuto is greeted with loud applause and the deafening beat of club music. The room has been transformed into the perfect party spot: there are large red and gold banners hanging on the wall, and a spacious dance floor fills the center of the room. Shouts of _‘There’s our ace!’_ and _‘Bokuto-san, drink up!’_ reach his ears and he’s swarmed by teammates, friends, and people he’s never even spoken to before. Noya slips a drink into his hand. Tanaka whacks him on the shoulder affectionately. Kenma briefly looks up from his muggle game to give him a nod of approval.

Bokuto greets everyone with a warm smile, sipping at whatever it is that his keeper has just handed him as his eyes dart around the room.

“Looking for someone?”

The sudden sound of Kuroo’s voice causes Bokuto to jump and let out a tiny shriek of surprise. His best friend laughs and slips an arm around his shoulders.

“What the hell, give a guy a warning next time,” Bokuto pouts. He stares down at his drink, a significant amount of which has already sloshed out of the cup due to his surprise.

Kuroo chooses to ignore this comment and instead simply steals Bokuto’s cup, taking a large swig and grimacing. “Akaashi’s not here, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“What?” His face falls. Not here? But… “Why not?”

“He’s doing prefect patrols in the dungeons,” Kuroo says, snorting in amusement. “Fuck, you should see your face right now. You look so sad.”

“Don’t make fun of my sad face!” Bokuto whines. He attempts to steal back his drink, but Kuroo has already downed it all and tossed the cup aside. “I thought he was going to come. I didn’t know he was a prefect.”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” Bokuto shakes his head. Kuroo sighs. “Find him, then,” he says. “I told you where he is. Go tell your boyfriend all about how much you miss him.”

Something inside Bokuto’s chest leaps in anticipation, and he instantly wriggles out from under Kuroo’s arm, ready to run down to the dungeons if he has to. Maybe he _should_ tell Akaashi how much he misses him. Maybe he should just tell him everything: how he thinks about him all the time, how he wants to be near him always, how he likes him so much he thinks he might burst. The idea of admitting all of this sounds more and more appealing by the second, and soon enough Bokuto has hyped himself up for the confession of a lifetime. “He’s not my boyfriend,” he clarifies first. _Not yet, anyway._

“Well, not with that attitude,” Kuroo adds.

Bokuto doesn’t have the time or patience to listen to Kuroo’s teasing, so instead he nods and starts heading for the door. Several of his teammates ask him where he’s going, but he waves them off.

“Going to get laid, hopefully!” Kuroo answers for him with a laugh, and Bokuto is so hopeful that he doesn’t even tell him to shut up.

 

***

 

It’s not hard to find him. The castle, although large, is fairly deserted at this time and almost nobody is roaming the halls. It takes Bokuto only ten minutes to rush down to the dungeons, and another few to spot Akaashi pacing near the Slytherin common room entrance. He pauses to catch his breath, winded from both the running and the sight of Akaashi. Even just standing, his eyes glazed over with sleepiness (or perhaps boredom), he looks amazing. Yep, Bokuto’s definitely done for.

“Akaashi!” he calls out, walking over with a grin. Akaashi looks up with wide eyes, surprised out of his previous sluggish state.

“Bokuto-san,” he responds slowly. “What are you doing here?” He tilts his head inquisitively, and Bokuto is reminded of how his owl friends perk up when they want more treats. _Cute,_ he thinks, blushing. _So fucking cute._

“Me? Ah, well. I was just, you know, in the area…”

“You were just…in the area? What business does a Gryffindor have in the dungeons?” Akaashi gives him a look, half skeptical and half amused. “Aren’t you supposed to be at some sort of party right now?”

Bokuto hesitates before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Okay, you caught me,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I was there, but it wasn’t any fun without you, so…”

Then something amazing happens—Bokuto _swears_ that Akaashi’s pale cheeks redden, ever so slightly. Eyes widening, Bokuto watches as Akaashi averts his gaze to the ground and nibbles at his lower lip. There’s a small smile hidden underneath, suppressed by the clench of his bite, and Bokuto can’t help but stare. He wants so badly to press that mouth to his own, to feel the scrape of Akaashi’s teeth against his lips. His breathing slows.

“Is that so?” Akaashi says after what feels like an eternity. He looks up at Bokuto through his bangs, blinking slowly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come. I wanted to go, but, well. Duty calls…”

“Right,” Bokuto nods vigorously, trying his best to calm down. He’s not sure if he’s imagining it or if there really is some intense sexual tension happening right now, but if there is, then he needs to be careful and play his cards right. “I saw you at the match!” he shrills nervously. “Did you cheer for me?”

Akaashi laughs, sweet and light, no longer trying to hide his smile. “I did,” he says. “You were really cool, Bokuto-san.”

At this, Bokuto’s entire body feels like it’s going to explode. His face bursts into the biggest grin, his heart pounds, and butterflies begin to flutter and flap in his gut. He’s pretty sure he has goosebumps—Bokuto’s never been quite this happy to receive praise before, and he’s always happy to receive praise. It takes all he has not to start shaking on the spot from sheer delight, and he suddenly realizes what Kuroo meant when he compared him to “an overly excited puppy that pees on the carpet” all those years ago. But he can’t help it. Akaashi called him _really cool,_ dammit! He thinks his excitement is more than justified.

“Really?!” Bokuto shouts more than he speaks, and Akaashi lets out another breathy laugh.

“Really.”

There it is again: the subtle blush. Bokuto feels the mood shift around them and he knows this is it; this is his moment. Before he can second guess himself, he steps forward.

Akaashi stills, blinking, his expression surprised but not guarded. He hesitates for only a moment when Bokuto slides their lips together in a soft but insistent kiss, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb over his jaw. Akaashi pauses, then kisses back, gripping lightly at the front of Bokuto’s robes. It’s chaste and cautious, the opposite of Bokuto’s boisterous personality, but it’s…nice.

For the few seconds that their lips are touching, Bokuto is in heaven. He can feel Akaashi humming against him, his fingers curling into the fabric of his clothes. His stomach flutters frantically, and he’s enjoying this _so much,_ but before he can deepen the kiss any further—he panics and pulls away.

“S-shit, um, I’m sorry,” he blurts, his hand falling from Akaashi’s face to his shoulder. Bokuto’s ears are burning red in embarrassment, and his blood is still pumping with adrenaline and other hormones as Akaashi stares, stunned from the abrupt end to what he thought was a pretty good (although innocent) kiss.

Then, he smiles. “You should be,” he jokes. His hands are still clenched into gentle fists against Bokuto’s chest, and he makes no move to step back or let go. “Loitering the halls _and_ assaulting a prefect? I could give you detention, you know.”

There’s an obvious suggestive air to the comment, but Bokuto, in his current nervous state, misses out on it completely. Instead of flirting back, he panics some more and hastily breaks apart from Akaashi. His hands fall to his side as he begins to shake, upset and worried and so fucking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry!” he yells, and before Akaashi has the time to let him know he was only joking around, he turns and flees.

It takes him less time to run back up to the Room of Requirement than it had taken him to run down, and when he gets there, Tanaka shoves a cup of firewhisky into his hands.

“Have another drink, Ace!” he roars. “You look like you need it!”

 

***

 

The owlery smells like dirty feathers and fresh rain. Bokuto sits on the floor amidst the owl pellets, knees curled up to his chest. It’s a pretty familiar position for him—he always comes up here to sulk when he’s upset about something. Lost quidditch matches, failed tests, sad news stories about homeless animals…you name it. It doesn’t take much to trigger one of his moods.

It’s been exactly one day since he kissed Akaashi. Exactly one day of avoiding him in the halls, running to and from class, and holing himself up in Gryffindor Tower like a sad puppy. He hasn’t been spending any time with his friends, because what’s the point? Everyone hates him and he’s going to die all alone, probably. All he has now is his owls. They’re the only ones who understand.

“I fucked up, Jellybean,” he pouts, giving the small bird a pat on the head. “I shouldn’t have kissed him like that. I should have asked first, or something, I don’t know.”

Bokuto heaves a sigh. He wishes he could disappear into thin air, apparate out of existence. Maybe he should just drop out of school and run away. Then he’d never have to face Akaashi ever again. He would definitely miss him, but…maybe that’s a sacrifice he has to make.

Suddenly struck with an idea, Bokuto pulls a crumpled piece of parchment and a quill out of his robe. Rearranging himself on the owlery floor, he begins to write.

_My #1 Dearest Bro,_

_I have decided to run away. By the time you read this I will be on my way to becoming one of those bald monks who shut themselves up in  
          dark rooms their entire lives. That’s a thing, right? Well, if not, I’m going to make it a thing._

_I will miss you, but I have decided to embrace this crushing loneliness before it gets too bad. Please take care of my owl buddies. Make sure  
          to let Snickerdoodle nest in your hair from time to time; she really likes it and I think it will calm her down a lot._

_Goodbye,_  
_Koutarou_  

The note is messy and nearly illegible, but Bokuto folds it up and attaches it to Jellybean’s leg, anyway. “Take this to Kuroo, please,” he says, ruffling her feathers lightly. “He should be in transfiguration right now.” Jellybean nuzzles into Bokuto’s touch before flying out the window.

It’s not five minutes before he gets a response. Surprised by how quickly his little owl was able to deliver, Bokuto takes the small piece of parchment from her leg with skepticism. But sure enough, it’s a reply—a short one, but a reply nonetheless.

_Bo,_

_What the hell are you even talking about? Why are you cutting class again? Get your ass down here before Professor takes away house points._

_Kuroo_

Bokuto frowns. Okay, so maybe running away and becoming a recluse isn’t such a good idea. His team still needs him, after all, and he’s so close to graduating that he might as well finish up the year.

But even so, he doesn’t want to go to class.

Letting out an indignant huff, Bokuto turns Kuroo’s note over and scrawls a response on the back.

_K,_

_let him try! i’ll kick his butt! (૭ ఠ༬ఠ)૭_

_B_

It’s the most aggressive thing he’s said (or rather—written) all week, and Bokuto feels so bad about it that ten minutes later he’s running into the transfiguration classroom, bowing apologetically.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor!” he squeaks before tumbling into his seat. From across the room, Kuroo rolls his eyes.

 

***

 

Days pass, then a week. It’s getting increasingly harder for Bokuto to avoid Akaashi. On Thursday he sees him in the halls and runs into the nearest classroom for cover, but he ends up getting trapped there and has to sit in on a first year lecture because the professor won’t let him leave. On another day, he nearly misses out on quidditch practice because Akaashi is _everywhere,_ and it takes him a considerably long amount of time to maneuver his way around him and onto the grounds.

His friends are getting tired of it, to say the least. Kuroo doesn’t even see what the big deal is. “Why don’t you just go apologize if you feel so bad?” he asks one afternoon as they’re lounging around outside the courtyard. “You don’t even know if he’s actually mad at you or not.”

“He’s mad! He’s so mad!” Bokuto whines. His body is stretched out dramatically on the grass, and every few seconds he slides a few more centimeters down the hill. Kenma and Kuroo sit next to him, legs folded underneath them.

“How do you know?” Kuroo prods, watching as a butterfly lands in Bokuto’s hair. He resists the urge to snort as it flutters around his ear, making Bokuto twitch.

He lets out a heavy sigh, rolling around onto his stomach. “He said he was going to give me detention, Kuroo. Detention!”

This time Kuroo really does snort, and even Kenma looks up from his game for a moment to stare at Bokuto in disbelief. “Wait, he said that?” Kuroo asks, laughing. “Dude, come on. He kissed you back, right? I’m like ten thousand percent sure he was trying to hit on you.”

“What?” Bokuto frowns. “I mean…he did, but—that doesn’t even make sense. How is that flirting?”

“Are you serious?” Kuroo is nearly doubled over in laughter now, so much that he too is beginning to slip down the hill. “I thought you were smart, Bo. Did he chastise you for being _naughty?_ Tell you he was going to punish you later?” Bokuto’s face is now a nice dark shade of red as he shakes his head in protest, but Kuroo ignores the other boy’s embarrassment and continues his teasing. “Man, and I thought the guy was boring! Who knew he was into kinky stuff like that.”

“I don’t think that’s what it is at all,” Bokuto blurts in a panic, cheeks burning. “He…if he really was trying to hit on me, he wouldn’t have let me run away! Right?” There’s an edge of uncertainty in his voice that’s hard to miss. At this, Kenma perks up again, speaking for the first time in the last hour.

“Actually,” he says, looking over at Bokuto’s dejected form in the grass. “I think Akaashi misses you.”

Bokuto lets out an involuntary squeaking noise and scrambles up to a sitting position. “What?!” he asks, crawling closer to Kenma and invading his personal space. “What do you mean? What makes you think that?”

Kenma leans back, frowning. “He keeps asking me about you,” he says with a shrug. “It’s getting kind of annoying, actually…you two should just get together already…”

“He asked about me?” Bokuto can feel his heart rate speeding up, but his mind is muddled. Why would Akaashi miss him if he’s mad at him? Or is he really not mad? He had been so sure that he was mad, but now…he’s less convinced. What if he really was hitting on him? His face flushes even more at the thought. _Oh God._

“Yeah,” Kenma nods. “He likes you or something, though I have no idea why he would.”

Bokuto wants to whine at the almost-insult, but he’s too hung up on the words _he likes you_ to focus on anything else. Instead of responding, he simply stares, mouth gaping open like a fish. Kuroo leans over to pat Bokuto on the back in encouragement.

“See?” Kuroo says with a smile. “I told you. Now get your act together and talk to him about it, will you?”

All Bokuto can do is let out a weak whimper as he slumps back into the grass, confused and apprehensive. He knows he should talk to Akaashi, and he definitely wants to— _god_ does he want to—but he’s scared. Right now, picking at long blades of grass and getting dirt under his fingernails sounds much more appealing. Maybe if he rolls all the way down this hill, all of his problems will go away.

Maybe if he ignores the dangerously hopeful feeling in his gut, he won’t have to think about what any of this means.

 

***

 

If there’s one thing Bokuto is exceptionally good at, besides quidditch, it’s running away from his problems. Although he’s sure that Kenma and Kuroo meant to help with their words of encouragement, they had only caused him confusion, and now he is even more unsure about what to do than he was before. Sure, the tiny bit of hope fluttering around in his gut should be a good thing, but it isn’t. Bokuto is the type of person with the tendency to latch onto any sliver of promise he can—only to set himself up for complete and utter devastation when things don’t work out. He doesn’t want to be _devastated,_ of course, and so he tells himself that there’s no way Akaashi could return his feelings. Or at least, he tries to tell himself that. It’s only half working.

Kuroo manages to convince Bokuto that running away and becoming a monk is not the best idea, but he continues to hide out in either his dorm or the owlery at almost all times of day. He begins to put together an emergency knapsack, in case he ever changes his mind and decides to flee the castle after all. So far the only things in it are some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and a packet of owl treats, though. What kinds of things do hermits even need to live? He’s not entirely sure.

Regardless, spending time with the owls calms him down. Bokuto starts to do all of his homework up in the owlery, which results in many of his assignments smelling dirty and being smudged with questionable substances, but hey. It beats hanging out in the library, where he might run into Akaashi at any moment. And anyway, it’s nice to have somewhere to study without his friends distracting him for once. He finds that he’s actually able to get a fair amount of work done when he’s by himself, and suddenly the upcoming N.E.W.Ts don’t seem quite as scary as before.

What Bokuto fails to realize, however, is that the owlery is not his own private space. He startles each time someone else comes trudging up the spiral staircase, disrupting his peace and giving him odd looks. By the time the fifth person of the hour appears, he’s stopped reacting, stopped trying to explain what he’s doing crouched on the floor with papers and owls surrounding him. Instead he remains focused on his work, only vaguely registering the sound of approaching footsteps.

He’s in the middle of rewriting his notes from ancient runes when someone stops in front of him, awkwardly clearing their throat. Thinking that he’s in the way, Bokuto begins to hastily gather his things, eyes still on the ground before him. “Sorry, I’ll move,” he says, shaking his textbook until the tiny owl that had been napping there slides off of it. He stands up, kicking stray papers, embarrassed by the mess he’s made. “I didn’t mean to—oh. Akaashi.”

Akaashi wears an earnest but cautious expression, and he reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck as Bokuto stares on, dumbfounded. “Bokuto-san,” he says softly. “I was hoping to find you up here. Can we talk? Please?”

He’s so stunned that all he can do is nod. It’s hardly been more than a week, but it feels like ages since he last saw Akaashi, and he looks…well. He’s gorgeous, of course, but there’s something off about him, like he hasn’t been sleeping or eating well, and suddenly Bokuto feels a pang of guilt. Did he do this? He had been so wrapped up in his own embarrassment that he didn’t think about how avoiding Akaashi would make him feel. He just sort of figured that he wouldn’t care, but Kenma told him that wasn’t the case. He didn’t believe it before, but now…well, now he feels like the biggest dick in the world.

“I-I’m sorry,” he blurts out, stumbling over his feet as well as his words.

Akaashi lets out a small chuckle, and Bokuto freezes, unsure of how to process such a sweet and unexpected sound. “What are you apologizing for?” Akaashi asks, tilting his head in the adorable way that Bokuto loves so much.

“Um,” he stutters. “For avoiding you? And…for kissing you?” It’s more of a question than a statement, really. What _is_ he apologizing for? He’s not exactly sure; all he knows is that he feels really, really bad.

“Ah.” Akaashi shifts his stance, and Bokuto notices for the first time that he seems…nervous. It’s unlike anything he’s seen before, and it catches him off guard for a moment, leaving him with his breath caught in his throat. “You don’t need to apologize for that last bit,” Akaashi continues. “Just the first part is fine.”

Bokuto’s brow furrows in confusion. So he is upset? Or is he not? He doesn’t understand. “I’m sorry for avoiding you,” he repeats to be safe.

Akaashi gives him a small smile. “Apology accepted. Well, only if you promise not to do it anymore,” he says. “The avoiding part, I mean.”

“I—” Bokuto pauses. Truth be told, he has no idea what’s going on right now—has no idea if Akaashi is mad at him or not, if this means he can kiss him again, or if they’re going to go back to being casual quidditch pals or whatever it was they were. “I was scared. I thought you hated me,” he finishes with a frown.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi says, the lack of an honorific making him sound strangely serious. He takes a step forward. “I don’t hate you. I’m just really bad at…well, communicating, sometimes. I’m sorry if you thought I was mad. I was trying to be playful, that’s all…I was really glad that you kissed me.”

That’s all it takes for the room to get really hot. Bokuto gulps, overly aware of how Akaashi has him nearly closed in against the wall. He can feel his hands sweating, and reaches up to adjust his tie. “Oh. You were?” His voice comes out in a squeak.

Akaashi laughs again, this time more heartily, and Bokuto can see that his cheeks are tinged pink. It’s cute, really—and certainly much more becoming than the beet red shade his face is currently sporting. “Yes, I was,” he responds. “I thought it was adorable how you left the party just to see me. I also think it’s adorable how you adopted all these owls, and well…everything you do is adorable, actually.” The confidence in his voice wavers a little with his last few words. Akaashi breaks eye contact to stare down at their feet, where one of the larger owls is tugging on the ends of Bokuto’s robes.

But Bokuto isn’t paying any mind to the owls. He’s too busy staring at Akaashi, beautiful Akaashi, who apparently thinks that Bokuto is adorable even though _he’s the adorable one!!!_ His heart thumps wildly in his chest as he steps closer, bridging the gap between them.

“Akaashi,” he says, reaching out to awkwardly tuck a strand of hair behind the other boy’s ear. “Is it okay if I kiss you? Again?”

Akaashi looks up and gives a nod, and that’s all Bokuto needs. He wastes no time in dipping down to press their mouths together, tilting his head and closing his eyes. His hand lingers at the side of Akaashi’s face before moving down to rub circles into his neck, the rhythm of his thumb matching with the small but eager movement of his lips. Akaashi responds quickly, and soon enough, his hands are tugging at Bokuto’s hair while his teeth tug at his bottom lip. Letting out a shaky gasp, Bokuto opens up slightly, allowing the kiss to deepen.

It’s warm and wet and perfect. He wishes it could last forever, but breathing sporadically through his nose soon proves difficult and ineffective. He pulls away only when it’s absolutely necessary, desperate to savor every last second.

Bokuto blinks, panting, and stares down at Akaashi’s long eyelashes and lips shining with saliva (which would have been gross if it weren’t for how _hot_ it was). Something in his chest clenches. He reaches up to smooth over a flyaway strand of raven hair.

“Akaashi,” he croaks, voice barely a whisper. “Akaashi…”

“Call me Keiji,” Akaashi exhales, sounding just as breathless. 

“Keiji.” The name feels foreign and strange on his tongue, but he likes it. He likes Akaashi. A lot. “I really like you, Keiji.”

Akaashi grins, shy but exhilarated. “I really like you too, Bokuto-san,” he admits with a blush, and it takes all Bokuto has in him not to swoop in for another kiss.

He settles for nuzzling their noses together, instead. “Call me Koutarou,” he mimics.

“Koutarou, then,” Akaashi says, and Bokuto is certain that it’s the prettiest he’s ever heard his name sound in his life. “How about another kiss?”

 

***

 

_K,_

_have you ever taken a bath in the prefect’s bathroom?? it’s amazing!!!!!_

_B_

_Bo,_

_………are you there with Akaashi? Please don’t tell me you guys were doing the nasty in there. Other people use that bath, you know!  
                    Including me and the other captains!_

_Kuroo_

_K,_

_it’s magic water, right? i’m sure it cleans itself!!!_

_B_

_Bo,_

_OH MY GOD???? I don’t know if I should be impressed or just disgusted……._

_Kuroo_

_K,_

_ヾ(@°▽°@)ノ♡♡♡_

_B_

***

 

**EPILOGUE - SIX MONTHS LATER**

 

Bokuto smooths over his tie for the fifth time that morning, wondering if he’s too overdressed. Seven years of attending school in uniform mean he’s used to dressing like this, but today is different—today is _important._ He’s considering swapping his tie out for a different one completely, but it’s past nine o’clock, and he’s wasted enough time already.

“Koutarou! You’ll be late if you don’t leave soon!” his mother calls from downstairs, as if reading his mind. Bokuto winces before beginning to traipse down to the kitchen.

“I know, I know, I’m going! Don’t worry, Mom,” he says. He leans over and presses a kiss to the side of her head before turning towards the front door. When he opens it, however, he nearly steps on the two fluffy owls that are perched on his porch, holding a letter.

Bokuto’s face breaks into a huge smile. “Mr. Crumb! Brownie!”

Crouching down, he takes the parcel from Mr. Crumb’s mouth (though with some difficulty—the owl doesn’t seem to want to let go) and begins to tear it open. One hand reaches out to pat Brownie on the head affectionately as the other holds the letter up to be read.

He grins when he sees Akaashi’s familiar slanted handwriting on the page:

        _Koutarou,_

_Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you. Just wanted to say good luck today—I know you’re going to blow them away._

_Love,_  
_Keiji_

_P.S. I was only going to send Brownie, but Mr. Crumb insisted on coming along. I think they all miss you a lot._

_P.P.S. I miss you a lot, too._

The note leaves him feeling fluttery and warm inside, as Akaashi’s notes always do. Bokuto stares at it for a good minute after reading, smiling and running his fingers along each line. His mother comes up behind him, and Bokuto steels himself for another scolding. However, instead of sternly telling him to get going for what would probably be the tenth time, she holds out a bag of owl treats.

“Better write back quickly if you want to make it to the Ministry in time,” she says with a smile.

His eyes light up. “Right!” he says, standing. He takes the treats from his mother and gives a few to each of his owls before rushing to the kitchen to compose a reply.

He only has time to write a few sentences—much less than he would like—before he really needs to leave. Bokuto makes sure to tell Akaashi that he’ll write a longer response later, after he gets home and isn’t in such a hurry. Hopefully he’ll have good news to share by then.

He’s busy embellishing the letter with several drawings of hearts when his mother nearly pushes him out the door, laughing and promising to send the owls back with his note.

“Good luck, sweetheart!” she calls, grinning down at the letter.

“Thanks, Mom!”

 

*** 

 

When he gets to the Ministry, it takes him ten whole minutes to figure out where he’s supposed to go. Eventually, after asking several people and staring at even more confusing maps, he finds his way to the meeting room. A tall man with a unibrow points him towards an office, and Bokuto wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks before walking in, slow and cautious.

“Good morning, you must be Bokuto-san, please have a seat,” the interviewer greets from behind a large mahogany desk. Bokuto nods and does as he’s instructed, trying his best to restrain from gawking too much at the mere extravagance of the room. He’s so awed by it that he almost forgets his apprehension completely.

“Let’s start with the basics, shall we?” the man continues. “Please introduce yourself.”

Bokuto clears his throat, sitting up tall in his chair. He thinks briefly of Akaashi’s encouraging letter, of his mother’s warm smile, and he suddenly remembers why he’s here. He wants to protect them—Akaashi, his family, Kuroo, Kenma, _everyone_ —wants to make sure that the world they’re living in is safe and enjoyable. It’s always been his dream, and he isn’t going to let some measly nerves get in the way of achieving it.

“I’m Bokuto Koutarou,” he says with newfound confidence. “And I’m going to become the greatest auror the world’s ever seen.”

**Author's Note:**

> pretend that sending owls is the hogwarts equivalent of texting and that bokuto drawing in kaomojis on his letters makes complete and total sense >.>
> 
> also i may be writing more in this universe! :-) we will see! thank you for reading!!!


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